


Taste of Home

by GrapieBee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Langst, at least a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapieBee/pseuds/GrapieBee
Summary: It takes about two months in space for Lance to miss foods from Earth.





	Taste of Home

It takes about two months in space for Lance to miss foods from Earth. 

True, a lot of what they’ve eaten more recently has been decent, thanks to Hunk’s stress cooking. But, man, not being able to grab a burger or ice cream when you were craving it had to be some kind of torture.

It’s by the fifth month that Lance realizes, quietly and in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep, that the food he misses the most is his mom’s bread.

A recipe that had been given to her by his grandmother, it was a simple thing needing only a handful of ingredients: water, flour, yeast, and time.

Time he already had and would have plenty of it as long as their missions continued to go according to plan.

Water was one of the first things they had made sure the castle could synthesize for them, so there was an abundance of that. 

Flour, or at least an equivalent to it, was one of the few things Hunk had made a point of finding when he convinced Coran to let him go on a supply trip with him.

Yeast though...that had been tricky. Most of the alien cultures they visited had something at least  _ kinda _ like bread. But, unlike the bread on Earth, very few had any rising agents in them. Or, if they did, the microorganisms that gave the rise were things no human would want to introduce to their bodies.

It’s six and a half months into their space travel when Hunk comes back from a shopping trip with packets of what had been called nutritional pellets. Perplexed, Lance had sat on the countertop as Hunk had opened one of the packets, shaking out a few of the pea sized foodstuffs into his hand, holding them up for Lance to see.

“What are these supposed to be?” He takes one of the offered pellets and rolls it between pointer finger and thumb.

“Well,” Hunk starts in as he unpacked the other items from the trip, “the girl trying to sell it to me said it's supposed to aid digestion and gave me a free sample the last time Coran and I went out. So, me being me, I popped one of those bad boys in my mouth and, wouldn’t you know, it tastes just like dried yeast from Earth does. So, I went back and got some more to trying baking with.”

Lance furrows his brow at his friend as he holds the pellet to his nose, sniffing it. Yeah, it definitely had the sort of earthy, sweet sort of smell to it. 

“So you basically went and got alien nutritional yeast because some pretty girl gave you a free sample? I must be rubbing off on you man, before you know it you’ll be dropping sweet one liners and having ladies swoon right into your arms.”

Lance got a flick on the back of the head for that comment and an slightly embarrassed look from Hunk.

“Shut up, or I’ll make sure you don’t get any cake.”

Lance cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

“Ah yes, the best flavor of cake imaginable, alien nutritional yeast.”

Hunk rolls his eyes with a smile and sets to work.

Though the first two cakes Hunk tries to make are a such a total disaster that they immediately get chucked into space, the third actually does  _ kinda _ resemble something like the desert from earth.

By the fifth one, it’s near perfection and Hunk beams with pride.

\----------------------

Lance has trouble sleeping.

Not in the sort of nightmare, staring at the ceiling, listening to every sound the ship makes as it goes through space sort of trouble.

It’s quieter, an aching in his bones that has his thoughts wander for hours. 

He wonders what his older sister is doing and hopes that she’s finally dumped that loser boyfriend of hers.

He wonders if his little brothers, twins with the same pair of mischievous brown eyes, finally saved up enough chore money to buy that game they wanted so badly.

He wonders if his step-dad has finally won over the alley cats behind their house with his songs and copious cans of tuna.

He wonders if his mom still makes her bread, twice a week, staying up late into the night to make sure her family has something wholesome to start their day with. 

Before he knows it, he’s in the kitchen, pulling things out from cupboards and trying to find where Hunk’s tucked that alien yeast he teased him about.

The recipe his mom follows is simple, easy enough that Lance had committed it to memory without even trying.

_ Always measure by weight, Lance, even the water. _

_ Mama, you don’t measure out anything anyway. _

_ I guess I’m a bread wizard now then, right? _

After spending nearly fifteen minutes looking for a scale and coming up with nothing, he sighs, deciding that it really can’t be that different if he converts the measurements in his head from weight to volume.

It’s a terrible, dumb mistake and he can’t even get the goopy mess in the bowl to form into anything resembling a dough. Following in Hunk’s footsteps, he jettisons the offending mess into space and goes back to bed.

The next day, once everyone is well fed and on their way out to start their day, he pulls Hunk aside and quietly asks where the kitchen scale is kept. He doesn’t miss the confused look his friend gives him; even still, Hunk is a kind person and shows him where it was stashed.

The next time Lance tries to make bread, it’s the day after his birthday.

The whole thing had been wonderful, with the day having mostly been spent playing video games with Pidge and Hunk, to a dinner with a spread unlike he had seen in some time. Hunk had perfected a new cake recipe for just the occasion. Hell, even Keith managed to be cordial, even if he personally doesn’t understand why birthdays are so important to people. He’s touched by the kindness in it all, truly he is.

But evening rolls around and, despite all the festivities, Lance can’t sleep. There’s an aching in his bones that won’t let him, so he makes his way to the kitchen and tries to make some bread.

His mother would always make them something special on their birthdays. 

Their favorite dishes, their favorite dessert. You name it, she’d make it. His sister and brothers always wanted to try something new every year. 

Chicken fried steaks and cheesecake one year. 

Stuffed peppers and an apple pie the next.

Kabobs and angel food cake the year after.

Lance wasn’t nearly so flaky.

His absolutely favorite birthday treat was his mother’s chocolate cherry bread. Every year, for as long as he could remember, that was the thing he got to look forward to. 

The fact that this was the first year, the first birthday, that there would be no way for him to taste it, for him to sit with his family and play card games late into the evening, has his heart aching. There’s a moment, a _ long _ moment, where he has to press a hand to his face to keep from crying.

The scale helps and Lance is able to make a dough with the mixture this time. It’s still not great and he knew it wouldn't be when the dough had remained stiff and sticky despite nearly fifteen minutes of kneading.

Still, he let’s it sit in a warm place and rise for an hour and bakes it for twenty minutes. It’s dense and uncomfortably chewy, but it’s edible. 

_ You can tell if you’ve got the beginnings of a good dough if it can take a  _ **_kneading_ ** _ and gets back up after. _

_ Mama, please leave the puns to me, you’re bad at them. _

The next time he makes bread, it’s just after Shiro has gone missing.

He hasn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours and his body is exhausted beyond belief. But his mind is awake and that ache is in his bones.

He adjusts the recipe, this time using a little more yeast, a little less of the flour, adding the water in little by little.

The dough takes to the kneading just fine and the final results are actually decent. But it’s still not quite right.

He gives this loaf to the mice and they love him for day because of it.

_ How’d you get so good at this, Mama? _

_ Practice and patience Lance. Practice and patience. _

The next time he makes bread, it’s right after they’ve found Shiro.

He knows there should be relief, should be nothing but happiness coursing through him. But Shiro’s eyes are colder and tired in a way that makes Lance antsy.

_ When did you start learning how to bake Mama? _

_ When I was about your age, my dear. _

When it’s all said and done and Lance is slowly chewing on a thin slice of this loaf, some part of him breaks a little bit.

It’s just like his mom’s; still slightly warm out the oven, fragrant and easy to enjoy. 

Before he can stop himself, he’s crying, crying in the middle of a kitchen thousands and thousands of lightyears away from home. Crying like a baby because he can taste his mom’s baking.

Once he’s collected himself, he carefully covers the loaf and leaves it on the counter, with a little note leaning against it.

**_Dig in everyone!_ **

By the time he wakes up the next morning, by the time he finishes getting ready for the day and makes his way to the kitchen, the loaf is completely gone and it makes Lance smile.

\----------------

“Where did you learn to bake man? I mean, don’t take this wrong, but it’s never seemed like your thing until recently.”

It’s weeks after that first, perfect loaf when Hunk asks him this. Lance has made that same loaf, twice a week, and not a crumb of it has gone uneaten.

“I actually learned from my mom.”

Lance has trouble sleeping at night. But it’s not so bad when he knows he can have a taste of home whenever he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Baking recipes for those who want to try them:
> 
> Mama Bread: https://anoregoncottage.com/whole-wheat-sandwich-bread-101/
> 
> Chocolate Cherry Bread: https://www.wegmans.com/products/bakery/bread-fresh-baked/seasonal-bread/chocolate-cherry-bread.html
> 
> Yeasted Cake: http://www.geniuskitchen.com/recipe/lemon-yeast-cake-from-king-arthur-478124


End file.
